Demi, Our Homicidal Maniac
by Demi'Knows
Summary: This is the story of one 17-year-old girl. One girl who knows nothing of her past. One girl who's father was... a homicidal maniac? This is the story of Demi. First Chapter is an intro, 2nd chapter not yet done.
1. Chapter 1

Demi knew, of course, that she wasn't the very closest thing to normal. The only "normal" things she did were drinking and maybe occasionally eating. No, she did not sleep. Not very often at all. She knew little of her outside life, which included her parents. Demi was homed in a large orphanage just down the road from her favorite 24/7. That was only place she ate at, her "sometimes" meals meaning a packet of M&Ms, a monster-size brain-freezy and a hotdog with ketchup and mustard. She had a reason for eating only there. But, before we get to that, you should want to know a lot more about Demi. She looked strange at first glance, but she wasn't ugly-looking or anything. She was actually very pretty, with her long, dark blue hair that was worn up in 2 ponytails, from the back of her head, about every other day. Her eyes were the best part about her. They were always light and sparkling, like she was permanently excited and anxious. Green was her eye color. When she looked in the mirror, to comb her hair, or brush her teeth, she wondered who her parents where, and what they could have possibly looked like! She wondered if she had inherited any of their traits. Were they kind? Creative and artistic like her? Maybe even…murderous? Probably not. Anyone would be damn ashamed to have me as a daughter, Demi thought, when her "orphanage brothers and sisters" talked about their long-gone parents. Demi didn't even know if hers were still alive…

Off of that subject, Demi kind of had a secret. A not-very-good one. Demi, of course, didn't think it was, though. Demi killed people.

Knives. Blades. Razors. Anything she could get her 17-year-old hands on, she'd kill anyone with anything. The person who got in her path of something important, anyone who said so much as a word to her, would die. She thought that just about everyone on Earth deserved a slow and painful death. (A/N: I love that quote… xD) She loved being alone. She felt, a lot, that the darkness that always filled her room was her friend. She did have another friend, though. DeathBear. She loved DeathBear. Sure, he wasn't very…cute. He had an eyepatch on one eye, a four-holed, green button on the other, and had various amounts of stitches everywhere. Demi got him when she was 3. Her "orphanage mother", Ms. L., gave it to her. Ms. L really did love Demi back then. She didn't kill people, (she was 3! But wouldn't that be awesome…) but she did yell and cry often, and injure her other "orphan brothers and sisters", the disturbed child she was. Ms. L felt sorry for her. The reason DeathBear was stitched and re-stitched because Demi had had to. She rarely saved herself from killing, by doing one thing, stabbing poor DeathBear, She choked him, threw him against the wall, cut him, anything that was do-able. After her ugly rages, she'd take a bit of floss or string from the edges of her black t-shirt and sew him right back up again. Kind of like a voodoo doll, right? Hating the world, she'd get mad often. For example, like if the neighbors were out yelling, partying, and being what Demi considered "rude and fucking stupid", she'd just get up and kill, until the sound of yells, chatting, and children playing no longer echoed off the other houses. Well, when she could escape. Ms. L was the only one who knew about Demi's disturbing secret. Mrs. L kept Demi locked up tight in her room. Demi would always escape with her madness, after a large fit of death threats, (Demi so badly wants to kill Ms. L, but never does.), screaming, door-pounding, and a little crying about how much life hated her. And, like you might have suspected, Demi was an artist. Anything was a drawing tool, like her weapons. Her love of art was probably the only thing that kept her living. And, yeah, sometimes Ms. L apprectiated her artwork. Besides the ones that were… um… carved onto Stacy's and Micheal's legs. Luckily, she mostly used paper and paintbrushes, and pencils. That was pretty much her life. Killing, art, and brain-freezies. Sound familiar? Hm? Hm?

A/N: I do own Demi, just not Johnny or Devi or anyone. Dammit! I told you who her parents were! Stupid me. I also own the characters coming up soon, in the next thousand-million chapters. When you read this, did you imagine the narrator, (meh) having a British accent? NO! I don't have one. I just did while I was typing, jeez. READ ON, PLEASE! And tell the author (again, meh, Jenni) , how it sounds! Comment! DO WHAT YOU MUST! (BTW, NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE IN DEMI'S POV!) (Sorry if this chappy WAS BORING AS HECK AND SUPER SHORT…but, hey, sorry.)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-Demi, Our Homicidal Maniac

(from Demi's POV)

_Thump._

"Ow!", I almost screamed, as a large black cat leaped in my path. "Fuck that cat." The same filthy stray seemed to enjoy annoying me. It was funny. I came to Westward Street. Almost to the 24/7. Yup. It was my time of the week again. Hotdog, brain-freezy, and a lasting pack of M&Ms. Sounded _delightful_. My steps growing larger, I strode faster. It was easier to just get it over with. I hated the neighborhood before the 27/7. The homes were all a hideous shade of yellow, like someone had a _really_ bad cold and decided to sneeze on the houses, because no damn tissue was big enough. Birds sung their deafening songs high above my head. I quickly did an area scan. Not a single person was out. Most had learned my "cycle" and knew to not walk their dog, or ride their bikes, on Saturday or Tuesday, 1:00 PM. If there was people out, they either stared (which received an ominous look), or scattered when they saw the shiny, scintillating machete gripped in my right hand. By the time I arrived at the filthy place with flashing and flickering '24/7' sign on the front, my legs were worn. It was at least 3 miles to get there. I confidently strode into the little store, holding my breath, as usual. But today was going to be different. I could just feel it… A/N: The next chapter will be one of the best. FEEL EXCITED! Seriously. The next chapter will be so awesome. 


End file.
